It's Getting Harder
by CraftyNotepad
Summary: Oh, she was wrong. He understood about taking chances and getting crazy. He just thought bigger than she imagined.


Disclaimer: There's an elegance in the first Pheely moment occurring in math. Wish I'd thought of it, but I didn't own PotF ... then! ... or now (sigh) ... but tomorrow's full of possibilities!

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It's Getting Harder

Inspired by Ashley

thank you for the advice about not rushing in and coming across too heavy

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She watched her pet conundrums from halfway across the quad. It was obvious to everyone but themselves how into each other they already were.

He said, "So, 'X' equals?" but his eyes cried out so much more, but what? Not the puppy dog lust she herself witnessed in boys' eyes. What was going through his head?

Gosh, she's gorgeous, making sunshine glimmer and shimmer so. Breezes waffling through her hair smell of black raspberries and vanilla.

Popular, musical, confident, caring, but confused about her future; seeing it as foggy and ever challenging her happiness.

How can I burden my best friend with my heart's desire? A nerd, from another time, she'd think me a freak, an outsider, and what's worse, she'd worry over my leaving someday. What right do I have to put her through that? But "when" I came from, she didn't exist. Now, she does and I'm here. We're here, and we could be happy, so happy together ..., but if I tell her, I could lose her forever. Say nothing, and the loss is just as certain. Anyway, teenage romances barely survive two weeks, so what good would come from risking everything for a relationship that would probably break up before the next algebra test? Taking such a chance now would just be ...

... kRAzy.

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Besides, how does one even reach out to the right person from another time?

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"X equals 2," she informed him, less confidently than before. In truth, this was getting harder. What he once made look so easy now was less clear to see, as she tried to make out the cube roots from the factor trees. Things weren't so simple anymore. She didn't want to lose her best friend. She wanted to move to the next level, but wasn't sure if she was ready, especially with him. S'truth. Yes, he was everything she wanted in a man, but, but was she ready to grow up that fast, to give her heart away ... too late for that, of course. Still, what was she going to do about it, how could they be a couple with the threat of his leaving this century at any time? Is that what was bothering her, his possibly one day leaving? She was so certain that their relationship was unique, but ALL WOMEN in love face this reality, with wives far outliving their husbands.

Across the street was the elementary school where he once learned how to hand write better than most monkeys, and on its playground first grade recess was ongoing. Is that what she'd have to do, wait? Wait for those loud, little apes to grow up so they'd appreciate her for who she was on the inside, as well as the out; one who, if he hung around, would be faithful and be with her until the end? A red handball sailed over the fence, and into the teachers' parking lot. Did she really want to wait, or play over there? Eww. That was no solution for happiness. On the other hand, HE was here, now. So was she. They were together, sort of, but she wanted ... something. Oh, she wasn't sure, but more, different, with him, but she wanted to be crazy about the idea of both of them again and not feel these knots in her stomach. Clearer? Maybe, or maybe she just knew him too well, and now wanted the excitement of the newness of another relationship, the chase, one with a boyfriend she wouldn't eventually have to defend to her mother about how she loved him despite his being different and not from around here.

"I told you you could get this harder stuff; it'll get easier, just as before."

"But I hate being put through the wringer to solve this. Why can't it be easier, you know, like before?"

He triple named her, and then comforted her as best he could from across their problems. "Looking back, it seemed easier then, less stressful, but it really wasn't. It was work and it always will be for you and me, just like it is for everyone else. What makes it seem easier in retrospect are all the pictures and good memories of success. It's just that without the visual of celery sticks and olives, it's more work to recall accomplishments."

"Then why do it? WHY do anything?"

"Honestly?"

She nodded.

The moment of truth. How to communicate his feelings without a safety net? He took her hand in his, hoping she'd understand. She gave him her "and?" look. (sigh) This was getting harder. Love's universal, but so's math. Is that what he needed here, another universal language to translate his feelings? Could he simply share with her the truth?

_I do it to be around you. See, there's no one else I want to be with in this century or any other. Even if it means flirting with you through fractions, idolizing over you with integers, sweeping you off your feet with solutions, --_

No, forget that. He was already on thin ice without coming across as a complete loser. Besides, what if she only liked him because she thought she couldn't have him?

Olives and celery sticks? In the middle of the page of her work he scribbled her out an equation, as he had many times before, to solve.

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K‹3 = -P

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"Oh," was all she let loose, then went about solving his equation.

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-1(K‹3) = -1(-P)

P = -(K‹3)

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"There, how's that? I solved for 'P." P equals the negative quantity K less than 3."

"It's not about solving for 'P,' and if K is negative, then that can't be a solution."

Confused, she scribbled out a new answer, but he refused to be satisfied when there were any negative signs.

"This is impossible to make work; it can't be solved!"

Grinning, "If I had a dime for ever person who said that and was wrong, well, there isn't even a name for a number that big, not in this century, anyway."

"Okay, professor," handing him her cranberry ink pen, "show me how to solve the unsolvable."

Love and Math -- that they're both universal languages kept going through his mind as he wrote the problem anew and presented the solution:

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K‹3 = -P

K+P = ‹3

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"Plus? How could there be a plus sign there, and why didn't you change the sign for less than 3? Don't you want just one variable one one side of the equation?"

"I don't. I really, truthfully, honestly don't. Both K and P need to be positive together."

She sighed. "This is why I hate how solving problems makes me feel. I told you this stuff was getting too hard."

He swallowed, wondering if he'd ever take another breath. "It's not about how difficult it is; it's about finding the solution ... making it work ... and being rewarded for your effort." If she laughed at him now, he just knew he'd die right there. He was taking the biggest gamble of his life on the long shot of all long shots that she could ever feel the same about him.

"You know, this doesn't make any sen--"

Then the notion dawned on her that she wasn't dealing with dry, everyday math equations. No, no; this was really important, a form of applied higher mathematics. Finally, her eyes were open as she did the math, at last seeing the true values of the symbols in his, no, "their" equation, they stood out like olives and celery sticks from their first "math date." Not only did he admit that he loved her, but he promised that if she only love him, too, they'd be happy together. That was some solution to solve their problem. "I-I understand."

"Nearly."

What did he mean? He was adding a new element to the equation. Would it be, "and baby makes '3'?" as in the playground chant? Was he admitting that he was just another guy desiring conquest? He lifted her pen ...

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K+P = ‹3∞

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She definitely wasn't a conquest to him; together, they were his goal, truth and happiness, now and forever. "Do you mean this?"

Taking a chance again, he admitted, "Y-Yes." He searched her face face for clues. Note to himself, never play poker with her.

"Oh, really ... so, 'K' comes first?" She smiled.

He grinned. "Always and forever. 'P' always places 'K' first."

"Trying to be alphabetical? I think P should come first sometimes."

"It's traditional. Okay, what if I promise not to push the issue, though, if it bothers you? There's nothing stopping you from putting P first. Deal?"

"'U'? Where's a 'U' in the equation?"

He reached for her hand again and she squeezed back. Both agreeing, "Right here."

Finally, their observer decoded their gazes, fleeting as they sometimes were. From the very beginning, it should have been as obvious to her as it should have been to them. Simplicity itself arising out of life's chaos, just as truth reveals itself as a math problem is at long last solved. The whole element of a stark equation standing alone makes it like a relationship that's just out there with no hints on how to make it work. Odds are realizing that you'll likely stumble, get lost, and not succeed; you get nowhere by giving up and just moving on to the next problem; solutions take work, yes. You know you're getting closer to your solution, but it's not yet the perfect answer ... not yet. Since you can bring to the conundrum only what you've already experienced, you're left with two options: you can only try again or, if you have someone who loves you, raise your hand and rely on your partner to help.

Silly snugglebunnies, it was love, and not just any love. The most precious and special variety of love is a love that is true, one that reaches out to claim that which seems impossible, unattainable, and so is all the more precious and treasured, both by the two who are lucky enough to have found it, as those who witness this miracle.

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K+P = ‹3∞

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•°•

"This is true love. You think this happens every day?"

-- Wesley to Buttercup

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"You truly love each other,

and so you might have been truly happy.

Not one couple in a century has that chance,

no matter what the storybooks say.

And so I think no man in a century will suffer as greatly as you will."

-- Prince Humperdinck to Wesley, in The Princess Bride

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Not the ending simply because the solution was found. No, not an ending at all ...

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End file.
